Airport Coffee Shop
by Bastard Snow
Summary: The Scoobies have a latenight layover in Chicago, and meet a face that’s a little too familiar. Sixth in the Coffee Series.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Airport Coffee Shop  
Rating: PG-13  
Author: Bastard Snow

Disclaimer: Don't own any of it

Summary: The Scoobies have a late-night lay-over in Chicago, and meet a face that's a little too familiar.

A/N: This is what happens when fanfic authors talk. No good can come of it.

Feedback: Yes, Please!

* * *

"There you are!" A man – a kind of a scary man, with an eye patch – ran up to her and threw his arm over her shoulder, and started guiding her away. "When did you change clothes? Come on, Buffy and Faith are waiting for us in the coffee shop."

"What –"

"Oh, by the way, we flipped coins already. You're stuck with Buffy the cover-hog, if we have to crash here tonight."

"Excuse –"

"I know, I know, it's not fair. You slept with Buffy last night. But this is an unexpected stop, and we have to make certain sacrifices."

"Excuse me!" Michelle said, stomping on the man's foot.

"Ow!" he yelled, hopping around for a moment. "Will, what the hell?"

"Will? Who's Will?"

"Um," he said. "You are? Willow, what's going on?"

"My name isn't Willow."

"This isn't funny."

"Kinda not laughing…"

"Okay, is this like that time you cast that spell and everybody forgot who they were? Only this time it's affecting only you, and… changing your clothes somehow?"

"Okay, listen, you're kind of freaking me out here? So I'm just gonna go find my husband, mmkay?"

Michelle started to walk away when the man grabbed her arm. "Ow!" she cried.

"Willow, seriously, this isn't funny."

"Hey, what's goin' on?" asked a dark-haired woman.

"This man is assaulting me," Michelle said, glaring at the one-eyed freak.

The woman cocked an eyebrow, and looked between them. "You guys are the weirdest friends, you know that? Come on, I think B's waitin' in the coffee shop."

"I'm not going anywhere with you people!" Michelle raised her voice, in the hopes that she would draw the attention of some security people. She was really starting to get scared.

"Hey, guys!"

A short, cheerleadery blonde walked up to them followed by a redhead who looked like –

"Oh my God!" they yelled simultaneously. Except maybe the other her said Goddess?

As Michelle took a step backwards, but the brunette girl moved behind her so fast that Michelle wasn't entirely sure the girl hadn't been there, anyway. And also, her hands were bound behind her back.

As the blonde and redhead – almost a clone of herself – stared, mouths gaping, the one-eyed man reached beneath his jacket in a move Michelle had seen many times – when men in movies reached for their guns.

She screamed.

----------

"Jesus!" Xander yelled. He slapped his free hand over the not-Willow's mouth.

"Xander!" Willow whispered urgently. "That's not me, you can't just…" she gestured at him with her hands.

"But she might be evil! The last not-you was evil!"

"Xander, does she look like a… one of them? Look at her skin!"

"It's pretty pale."

"Warm, too," Faith said, still holding the woman's hands together. "But 'one of them' isn't all she could be."

Buffy sighed. "I think she's done screaming, though."

Xander looked at her oddly, and Buffy gestured towards not-Willow's mouth.

"Oh, right." Xander pulled his hand away from not-Willow's mouth, and just as he was about to apologize, he was tackled without warning from the left. Xander rolled with the hit – which was surprisingly weak for such a quick hit – grabbed his assailant's arms and flung him across the hallway and into a line of baggage carts, spilling them out all over the floor.

"Jim!" squeaked not-Willow.

"Ah! I'm okay," said Xander's attacker. "I'll save you, sweetie!"

Jim set himself to charge.

"Everybody, just calm down!" Buffy said, stepping between Xander and Jim. "We need to figure out what the hell is going on."

"Those were my thoughts exactly."

They all turned towards the voice and saw three men in security uniforms with their hands blatantly on their weapons.

"Sorry, officers," Buffy said, stepping towards them. "Just a misunderstanding. Nothing to worry about."

"Well," said the head officer. "I guess we'll just see about that ourselves. If you all would just follow me?"

Xander shook his head in disgust.

"Son of a bitch," Faith muttered as she released Michelle from her grasp. "I hate getting arrested."

----------

End Chapter 1


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Airport Coffee Shop  
Rating: PG-13  
Author: Bastard Snow

Disclaimer: Don't own any of it

Summary: The Scoobies have a late-night lay-over in Chicago, and meet a face that's a little too familiar.

A/N: This is what happens when fanfic authors talk. No good can come of it.

Feedback: Yes, Please!

* * *

Lawrence Mathers was annoyed. Two of the people he'd brought in were entirely innocent, he was sure of that. The witnesses he'd interviewed said that the man, Jim, had just tried to help his wife, Michelle, when she was accosted by the others.

Michelle and Jim had no idea what was going on, and Jim actually looked like he wanted to call his dad. He was all set to release them, as soon as their bags had been searched.

The others, however, were a completely different story. Far from being scared and worried, qualities common in most people who were brought in for questioning, these four – Willow, Alexander, Faith and Buffy of all names – were joking around like it was no big deal, shooting the breeze and basically being mean to him.

This was not how Lawrence liked to run his interrogations. He was also angry at one of his deputies, who had missed a cell phone when they were being frisked. They found a damn cross the size of Texas, but missed the cell phone. Typical.

The detainees had kept the phone long enough to make a call, and Lawrence had every confidence that within a few minutes, he'd be hearing from a lawyer.

However, Lawrence still had them for the moment, and he planned to make good use of it.

"Excuse me, sir?"

Lawrence looked over at Erik, the promising young man who had called in the disturbance.

"What is it?"

"Um… I've just searched their bags. You might want to come take a look at this."

"Erik, we're not gonna get them on possession of marijuana. I'm not that desperate for a conviction."

"There's no drugs, sir," Erik said. "But… well, I think you should see for yourself."

Lawrence ambled over to the open bags and looked in the one belonging to Buffy Summers first.

"What the hell is that stuff?"

Erik picked up one of the wooden things. "It looks like a stake, sir. Like, for a tent?"

"Well, that's not –"

"Only, there's blood on it."

That got Lawrence's attention. "Blood?"

"Well… something like that. It's red, anyway. And this bag," Erik moved to the one belonging to Willow Rosenberg. It was filled with little bags of dust and dried vegetables and… animal parts? "Well, I don't know what all this stuff is, but there's gotta be some kind of contraband in there."

Erik moved to the next bag. "This belongs to Faith Lehane. It's got a couple of stakes as well – no blood, this time – and a big knife."

"A knife?" Lawrence asked. People weren't supposed to have knives. He wasn't specifically aware of any regulations that said you couldn't have wooden tent stakes, but knives, he knew, were a big no-no.

"Yes, sir. A jewel encrusted dagger, sir. It's actually a very nice weapon."

"What about Harris' bag?"

"Nothing, sir. Well, nothing illegal. Some prescription eye-drops, a notebook full of weird drawings. A stuffed bunny."

Lawrence cocked an eyebrow, and Erik just shrugged. "I don't make this stuff up, sir."

"We released the Levensteins yet?"

"Just about to, sir. Their bags are clean."

"Don't," Lawrence said. "This stuff here… we have to make sure they're not connected in any way. Just in case."

"Yes, sir," replied Erik. "What do you think this is?"

Lawrence picked up the dagger and flipped it around in his palm.

"Son, I got no idea."

----------

"I don't get it," Jim whispered. He and Michelle were huddled in one corner of the airport's holding room, talking quietly with each other and observing Michelle's assailants.

When they had first been thrown in the cell, those four had been nervous and twitchy, watching him and Michelle out of the corners of their eyes. Well, the guy hadn't, but he was… scarier, anyway.

But then, about ten minutes later, the one who looked just like Michelle – whose name was apparently Willow – had done some weird stuff with her hands, and spoken something that sounded like Latin. They had spoken quietly for a few seconds after that, and then relaxed completely.

It was really odd.

"What don'tcha get?" Michelle asked. She was being normal for him, he knew, because he was really kind of freaked out.

"Them," he said. "And how… you and her can look so much alike. Don't you think that's odd?"

Michelle shrugged. "They say everybody has a twin. Hey, maybe some time, you can put on an eye patch and I can dress like her and we can pretend we're crazy airport attacking people, only with more sex, and less craziness. Or, different craziness, anyway."

Jim laughed and put his arm around his wife and held her close. "Do you have any idea how amazing you are?"

Michelle shrugged. "It's a living."

Jim kissed the top of her head. "I wonder what they're talking about."

"Crazy things, probably. Crazy, airport attacking things."

"Yeah," Jim said. "You're probably right."

----------

"That's really fuckin' weird," Faith said.

Xander nodded. "It is. Will, she looks just like you. Just like the vampire you did."

"Only, less with the bondage gear," added Buffy.

Willow nodded. "She's like me, only straight."

"And like Anya, the way she talks about sex," said Buffy. "You should hear some of the things she's whispering in his ear."

Faith nodded. "I feel kinda dirty."

They all looked at her.

"What?" she said, defensively. "I can feel dirty."

Buffy looked down at her chest and squeezed her breasts together. "Would that really even work?"

Willow looked confused for a moment, then her eyes lit up in understanding. "Oh. Oh!" She squeezed her own breasts together. "Huh. I dunno."

Xander looked at Faith, who was also squeezing her breasts together. And then he caught on.

"Yes," he said, without thinking. "It does." Willow and Buffy looked up at him with horror in their eyes, blushing simultaneously. Faith just grinned at their embarrassment. Xander decided the best course of action was to move the conversation along.

"So… a straight Willow that talks like Anya," Xander mused. "If she had Dawn's ass, she'd be the perfect woman."

"Xander!" Buffy screeched.

"Oh, yeah," Willow nodded, imagining the picture in her head.

Buffy gaped at her best friend. "You traitor."

Willow smiled meekly. "Sorry."

Xander looked from Willow's chest to Buffy's chest, to Faith's chest.

"And switch those, too," he said, pointing between Willow's and Faith's breasts.

"Hey!" Willow and Faith smacked Xander on the arm.

Faith grabbed her breasts forcefully. "You want these girls, you're gonna have to come get 'em. They're stayin' where they are."

Xander waggled his eyebrows, and stuck his tongue out. "Watch yourself I don't take you up on that."

"You couldn't handle this."

"I've learned a lot in the last few years. I can handle quite a bit."

"Hey! Can we have a little less hormonal over drive? Jeez!" Buffy sighed. She glanced at Willow's body. "What part of me would the perfect girl have?"

"Legs," Willow and Xander said, simultaneously. Buffy looked at them.

Xander coughed. "We uh… might have discussed this at some point."

"You guys are all perverts," Buffy muttered. "Really, my legs? I always thought they were kinda stubby."

Xander shook his head. "Good legs."

Buffy grinned, leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.

Willow frowned. "How come he gets all the fun?"

----------

"Jesus, what is he, like, Stifler?" Jim asked. "How does one guy get that lucky?"

"I bet they don't do what I do," Michelle sing-songed, teasingly.

Jim looked at his wife and grinned.

"Hey," called the big one. "Where are you guys from, anyway?"

"Excuse me?" Jim said. "I'm sorry, are you talking to us? Because I thought you were maybe interested in assaulting my wife."

The man coughed into his hand and had the decency to look ashamed. "Yeah. Uh. Sorry about that. It was all a big mistake, kind of thing."

"Oh, did you hear that honey? It was all a big mistake, so let's just forgive them for attacking you and tell them where we live."

"Jim," Michelle cautioned.

Jim stood up. "No, you know what? I've been taking crap from guys like you for my entire life. Well you know what? Here, today, right now, I'm done with it, okay?"

The people sitting across from him sat there for a moment in stunned silence.

"Wow," said eye-patch guy. He turned to the blonde. "Have I become Dracula?"

"No. And you're not Larry, either."

"If anyone here is Larry, it's Willow," the man replied.

"Hey!" protested the redhead – Willow. "I may be gay, but I'm not piggish, or… or a brute!"

"Well, neither was he, once he came out," eye-patch replied.

Willow frowned. "Well, I wasn't before I came out, either."

Big guy rolled his eye. "Will, you didn't know before you came out."

"Did so!"

"Yeah, okay, for like a month. That counts."

The redhead glared at him.

Jim turned to Michelle. "Does any of this make sense to you?"

Michelle shook her head.

"Listen," one-eye said, standing up. "I'm Xander, and these are my friends Buffy, Willow and Faith. And we really do apologize for the mix-up back there. Completely our fault. We've just had… issues with randomly appearing twins."

Willow smiled. "Yeah, either they're robots, evil, or various aspects of ourselves, either one of which would kill the whole if killed itself."

Jim blinked. "What?"

Xander shook his head. "Nothing. Listen, we're gonna get out of here pretty soon. If you guys don't mind, we'd like to do you a favor and get you out of here, too."

"'Get out of here'?" Jim asked. "What, are you guys going to escape? No thanks, we'll just wait."

Buffy laughed. "Nothing so sinister. Just say we've got some… friends."

The others laughed at her little joke, but Michelle and Jim were still lost. They pretty much stayed that way for the next few minutes, until the chief of security showed up looking very unhappy.

"What can we do for you, officer?" Buffy asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and looking at the guard with big blue innocent eyes.

"Don't try your little tricks on me, girly," the man said. "I been around too long for that. Now. You, with the eye patch."

"Moi?" Xander asked, holding his left hand delicately to his chest.

"Yeah. You're coming with me."

Xander shrugged. "Okay. I should warn you, though; I've been told I have a sarcastic and occasionally grating nature. You might not like me very much. Also, I don't know what you think you'll get out of me."

"Oh, I've got some interesting questions, and interesting ways of getting answers."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees as Xander grinned. It was not a nice grin. Jim glanced around at the girls sitting around Xander. They were all glaring at the officer, their eyes little more than beads. Jim was suddenly happy to be on this side of the bars.

He slid back a little, pressing against Michelle.

"Sweetie, I love you, but now really isn't the time," she whispered.

The officer slowly swung the door open. Xander stood and walked haughtily out of the cell.

"Hey," Faith called.

"Yeah?" Xander asked, pausing.

She grinned at him. "Leave some for us."

Jim had no idea what that meant.

----------

"Ladies, ladies, ladies. What have you gotten yourselves into this time?"

All five occupants of the O'Hare International Airport holding cell looked up at the voice. Two of them recognized its owner.

"Graham!" called Willow and Buffy, smiling.

"Hello. Riley and Sam send their regards. The ol' gimp is caught up in California at the moment. Something about his cousin, I'm not really sure what."

"Everything okay?" Buffy asked.

"Far as I know."

"How'd you get back here without the guards?" Willow asked.

Graham shrugged. "There was nobody up there, so I thought I'd come see. So what'd you do this time?"

"Hey!" protested Willow. "Why do you automatically assume we did something?"

"Um. Cuz you're in jail? Hey, why does that girl look – was there another Toth?"

"Riley told you about that?" Willow asked.

Graham shrugged. "There was some mention of separate rooms and experiments, but I told him he was just being weird."

"Well, we're not clones, or robots, or evil vampires from another dimension, or anything like that," Willow assured him. "It's just one of those messed up things that never happen to anybody unless you're us."

Faith coughed.

"Oh, right," said Buffy. "This is Faith. And those two are Jim and Michelle. So, you wanna bust us out of here, or what?"

"Got nothin' better to do," Graham said with a shrug. He pulled a key from his pocket and opened the cell door. "I was in Gary visiting my sister. I think I pissed her off."

"How'd you do that?" Faith asked, as she stood and stretched her arms above her head. Graham took a long and obvious look at her physique. He looked at Willow and Buffy. Willow shook her head.

"Damn. Anyway, I was pretty much threatening all the guys who were hitting on her. Got tiring after a while, for both of us."

"Why?" Willow asked. "Is she hot?"

"Willow!"

"What?" asked the witch. "It's a legitimate question. I'm on the market."

"Yeah, but he said she was getting hit on by guys, not girls," Faith pointed out. "Maybe li'l sis don't swing that way."

"This is really very disturbing. Can we just get you out of here and leave?"

Buffy nodded. "Sure. They're with us, too, okay?"

"Yeah. Where's Harris?"

"Xander's in interrogation," Willow told Graham.

"Yeah? Can't be much fun for the fed. I'll go see what I can do about gettin' you guys outta here."

Graham pulled out his cell phone and dialed. "Hey," he said once the other party had picked up. "It's me. Send it."

Graham winked at Faith. "Back in a few."

----------

As he stood on the far side of the two-way mirror, Lawrence Mathers simply could not understand. The records he'd been able to access on this kid – police, social services, a few other public databases – didn't even begin to hint at the level of headache the young man with the eye-patch was giving him. There was simply nothing to account for it.

Mathers hadn't been surprised to find the kid had an FBI file. He'd lost his eye somehow, and he'd jumped quickly to violence earlier. That indicated gang involvement, and though the FBI hadn't been particularly adept and shutting gangs down, they had, at least, been able to learn a lot about them. This young man was no exception.

This Harris kid had history of 'incidents' as long as his arm, but nothing that ever stuck. He'd been in the hospital a bunch of times, had barely graduated high school, and gone on to what was, in all honesty, a fairly meteoric rise at a construction company in his hometown of Sunnydale – a job he had lost when the town imploded.

However, the FBI file indicated that despite some suspicious activities, Alexander LaVelle Harris was nothing more than an average American who'd had more than his fair share of bad luck over the years.

A file like that prepared Mathers for someone who was paranoid. Thought the world was out to get him. Thought that police were scum, and always trying to pin something on someone, and didn't really care whether they were right, so long as they met their quota.

A file like that prepared Mathers for somebody who was stoic in the interrogation room, giving up as little as possible on the general principle of "Screw you if you can't figure it out yourself."

A file like that did not prepare Mathers for a young man who sat in his chair and made jokes about being arrested. A young man who found the term 'blood-sucking lawyers' to be the height of wit. A young man who was, in fact, so relaxed that he had asked a deputy for a Twinkie to go with his coffee. Who smiled, and was polite, and said a lot of words without actually telling them anything.

Mathers was at a loss, and was taking a five minute break from the interrogation – if it could really be called that – to get his bearings. Somebody knocked on the observation room door.

"Come in," Mathers said, gruffly.

The door opened and his deputy, Erik, stuck his head in.

"Um, sir? There's a gentleman out here asking about the folks we've got in lock up."

"Lawyer?" Mathers asked.

"Um. No sir. He looks military."

Mathers's eyebrows creased, but he followed Erik back out to the front where a young blonde man was standing.

"Marshall Mathers?" the young man asked, holding his hand out.

"I am," Mathers replied, shaking the young man's hand. "And you are?"

"Graham Miller."

"Well, Mr. Miller, what can I do for you tonight?"

"Actually, I'm hoping you could release my friends, as well as the two people you've got locked up with them."

"Are you, now?"

"That's right."

"And what reason would I have for doing something like that?"

The fax machine behind the desk rang once, connected, and started printing something out.

Graham formed his fingers into a gun and 'fired' at the fax machine. "That's your reason right there."

Erik grabbed the fax from the machine and handed it to Mathers, who read it silently.

_From the Office of the Governor of the State of Illinois. Current detainees Harris, Alexander LaVelle; Lehane, Faith; Rosenberg, Willow; and Summers, Buffy Anne, are hereby remanded to the custody of Graham Miller, an agent of the United States of America. Any additional detainees requested by Mr. Miller shall also be remanded to his custody immediately, and without question. _

It was signed by the governor. And the signature didn't look like a stamp.

"Well, Mr. Miller, it appears the governor is on your side."

"Yeah, looks that way," Graham said.

"Unfortunately for you and your friends, I'm a federal Air Marshall, and not subject to the jurisdiction of the state of Illinois."

"Yeah, well, that's actually not true," said Graham. "Congress passed and the president signed a law putting all Air Marshall's under the guidance of the appropriate agencies of the states in which they are based. The only ones who are strictly under federal regulation are those who actually get on the planes and fly around."

"I've not been made aware of that."

"I'm not really surprised. The wheels in DC turn slowly." The fax machine rang again, and Graham smiled. "Anyway, I thought you might say something like that."

Erik produced the second fax. It was from the Department of Justice. Mathers grabbed the fax. It was much shorter.

_Compliance with all state communication re: Summers, Buffy, et al is hereby ordered._

It was signed by the Attorney General. That signature didn't look like a stamp, either.

Mathers looked up at the young man before him. "ID," he growled.

The kid handed over two forms, a driver's license and military ID. His smug smile showed that he knew he'd won out.

"Don't take it too hard." Miller accepted his IDs back from Mathers. "Most of 'em won't be like this. You just got unlucky and tagged a few people with connections to the top."

Mathers looked up at him. "How far up?"

Miller shrugged. "How many people can wake the attorney general at this time of night, get him to hand-write a short note and have it faxed to O'Hare Airport?"

Mathers could really only think of one person.

----------

End Chapter 2


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Airport Coffee Shop  
Rating: PG-13  
Author: Bastard Snow

Disclaimer: Don't own any of it

Summary: The Scoobies have a late-night lay-over in Chicago, and meet a face that's a little too familiar.

A/N: This is what happens when fanfic authors talk. No good can come of it.

Feedback: Yes, Please!

* * *

Jim was waving his hand around and cursing, as Xander rubbed his jaw.

"You all right?" Faith asked. He waved her off and shook his head.

"That actually wasn't a bad punch," he said.

"I can hit harder," Buffy commented.

Graham laughed. "Just in case we weren't aware, right?"

Buffy pouted. "There's violence happening and I'm not the one doing it. When is this ever a good thing?"

"She's got a point," agreed Willow.

"Anyway," Xander said, turning to Jim and Michelle. "As I was about to say before I was rudely assaulted is that we'd like to pay for a couple of tickets to get you guys where you're going."

"And hotel accommodations for the night," added Willow. "Seems the right thing to do."

"Even after Jim punched you?" Michelle asked. Buffy was amazed how, though their voices were similar, Michelle and Willow really didn't sound very much alike.

"Yeah, sure," Xander shrugged. "I've been hit harder and more often for much smaller things than getting somebody arrested."

Faith draped herself over Xander. "Besides. He's been sleeping with us girls for a while now. Builds up a lot of goodwill."

Xander looked down at the woman on his arm, the back to the married couple. He put his arm around Faith and pulled her even closer to him. "She's not wrong. In fact, why don't we all go have dinner? Our treat. Graham, you're invited too, of course, oh liberator of felons such as we."

"Thanks," he said. "But as fun as joining all you freaks for food sounds, I think I'm gonna go back to my sister's place and beat off some more guys."

Faith, Xander and Michelle just stared at him. Graham seemed to mentally repeat what he had just said.

"I meant, of course, that I will be harming them physically."

Xander nodded. "Sure ya did."

"Absolutely," agreed Faith.

Michelle smiled innocently and shrugged. "Some guys like a strong grip."

Xander laughed as Willow blushed a deep shade of crimson. "Oh, I meant to ask you. How did you get those letters sent so quickly?"

Graham grinned. "Well, the one from the governor of Illinois, Riley passed a request on up the line. You'd be amazed how much weight his name holds with people who know him."

Buffy smiled. "Not that amazed. We know him, remember?"

"Right," Graham said. "Anyway, the one from the AG was forged."

"What?" Willow asked.

Graham shrugged. "We needed it, we weren't about to wake up anybody who could get it. Had a friend snag some letterhead, type up a quick letter and fake the signature. You think an Air Marshall in Chicago's ever seen the Attorney General's real signature? Please. Anyway, I gotta run. College kids to beat the crap out of.

Xander couldn't help but laugh. He reached out to Graham with his free arm, and shook the man's hand. "It was good seeing you again, man. Say hi to Riley for us."

"Man, you'll probably see him before I do," Graham replied, releasing Xander's hand. Buffy stepped up and gave him a peck on the cheek before thanking him again, and Willow did the same. Graham smiled at them and turned to make his way out of the airport.

Xander turned back to the Levensteins. "So. Dinner?"

Jim and Michelle shrugged, and followed the Scoobies off to a restaurant. During which time, Buffy noticed, Xander and Faith never pulled apart from each other. It was interesting.

----------

Buffy's spoon clattered into her bowl, now empty of ice cream.

"That was just what I needed," she said, sitting back in the booth. Then she noticed that everybody was watching her.

"What?" she asked.

Xander shook his head. "Buff… I hate to be the one to tell you this. You eat like a pig."

Buffy looked offended. "I do not!"

"Yeah, B, you really do."

She looked down at her shirt. "I didn't even spill any of it."

Willow handed the blonde slayer a mirror. Remnants of the ice cream were situated squarely around her lips, and a little way up her left cheek. Buffy grabbed her napkin and wiped her face off quickly, then ducked her head, embarrassed.

"Aw, don't be like that, Buff," Xander consoled her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her towards him. "It's cute, and endearing."

"I'm gross."

"Yeah," Willow agreed, "but we love you anyway."

"So where are you guys from?" Xander asked, turning to the married couple.

"Great Falls," Michelle told them

"Virginia?" asked Willow.

Jim shook his head. "Michigan."

"Never been to Michigan," Faith said.

"It's nice."

The two groups sat looking across the table at each other.

Jim cleared his throat. "So what's up with this? I mean, you two look exactly the same."

Willow shook her head. "No idea, but honestly? On the scale of one to our lives? This doesn't rate more than a three or four."

Jim and Michelle regarded them oddly. "What is it that you guys do?"

"We're recruiters for an exclusive all-girls school in Cleveland," Xander explained.

"That um… doesn't sound too weird."

Faith shrugged. "You haven't met the girls."

"No, but we have met Finch," Jim pointed out. "He's really weird."

"Anyway," Willow continued. "I very much doubt we're twins. Genetically, I mean. How old are you?"

"Twenty-six," Michelle told her.

"See? I'm twenty-two. So that's all kinds of impossible. Oh, and our voices aren't very similar."

"True," Michelle agreed.

"But you look exactly the same," Buffy said. "It's very odd."

"I wonder how much of you guys is exactly the same?" Xander mused.

Everybody looked at him. "I meant like fingerprints and stuff!" he defended. "Minds out of the gutter, you pervs!"

Faith cocked an eyebrow at him. His shoulders sagged. "Yeah, okay, I meant boobies," he admitted. "But it's a good question."

Michelle took a small notepad out of her purse and wrote something down. She handed the note to Willow, who looked at the note, looked at Michelle's chest, looked at her own and frowned.

"Unfair."

"So we really have no idea how this happened?" Buffy asked, disbelieving. "Maybe we should ask Giles or something."

"I dunno," Willow said. "Maybe it's just one of those things."

Faith yawned loudly, stretching her arms out high as she did so. Xander laughed.

"Somebody's tired…" he teased.

"I'm fine," Faith argued through another yawn.

"Actually, we've got an early flight," Jim said. "We should probably get going. Thanks for dinner."

"A-and the tickets," Michelle added. "And, you know. Hotel."

"Well, thanks for not pressing charges," Xander responded. "Very helpful."

Jim looked from his wife, to Willow and back again. "Too weird."

The Levensteins got up from the table, waved weakly to the Scoobies and left the restaurant. Buffy and Willow scooted to the other side of the table.

"So they're not evil?" Xander asked.

"Nothing," Willow told him. "Not a drop."

Xander reached out and grabbed Michelle's note, reading it before his best friend could take it back. "Impressive."

"I know," Willow grumbled.

"Aw, don't be like that, Red. Your boobs are just fine."

"Yeah?"

"Absolutely," Xander agreed. "You're beautiful as you are."

Willow grinned at him, clearly pleased with his opinion.

"You guys are such saps," said Faith, yawning again. "And that's my cue. I'm heading to bed."

"I should probably go, too," Xander said. "After all, once we land, I'll be driving again. You guys coming?"

Buffy shook her head. "We'll be up to the suite in a while. Just leave us the smaller room, so we don't wake you when we come in."

"All right."

"Looks like it's you and me, X."

Xander nodded. "I can live with that."

The two of them headed off together. Once they were out of hearing range – a considerable distance, considering Faith's hearing – Buffy turned to Willow and whispered conspiratorially.

"I think they like each other!"

Willow rolled her eyes. "Duh."

----------

Faith flicked on the light in the larger of the two rooms off of the suite.

"Hey, X."

She heard Xander spit out into the sink, then rinse and spit again. "Yeah?" he called from the bathroom.

"What kind of beds are in the smaller room?"

Xander walked up behind her. "Two doubles. Just like the – oh." In the large room was a single queen sized bed. "One second."

Faith stood there while he checked out the small room. He returned shaking his head. "Queen there, too. Should I call and make 'em change us?"

Faith looked from the bed, to him and back again. "Nah," she said. "It's late. I'm cool with it if you are."

Xander shrugged. "I'm good."

Together, they approached the bed, automatically heading for opposite sides. Xander pressed the mattress to test in. He nodded sagely. "Firm. Good mattress."

"Yeah."

Faith looked up at him, then shrugged, pulled the covers back and slid under. "Warning you, I'm a blanket hog."

"That's okay," he said. "I've got cold feet."

Xander reached over and flicked off the light. "Good night, Faith." His voice was low and gruff.

She closed her eyes. "Good night," she whispered back.

----------

The next morning after breakfast, the Scoobies saw the Levensteins off to their new, first class accommodations and got ready to board their own flight to Maryland.

And the entire time, Xander and Faith were avoiding each other's eyes.

As the group of them waited in the terminal, Buffy's cell phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Buffy," said Riley's voice. "Hey. How are you guys?"

"We're fine, Riley," she said, telling the others who she was speaking to. "Thanks for getting Graham to bust us out. How're you doing?"

"Um, a little weirded out, actually. What are you guys doing?"

"Sitting… in the terminal, waiting for our flight to Baltimore-Washington International Airport. What's wrong?"

"Okay. Listen, I'm visiting my cousins out here in California. I'm pretty sure my cousin here is a Slayer."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Kind of really sure, actually. Would you guys mind…"

"No, of course," Buffy said, snapping at Willow and signaling for a pen and a sheet of paper. "Do you have an address?"

Buffy took down the address of Riley's cousin, and the hotel he and Sam were staying at. "Okay," she said. "Well, we'll go change our tickets and see you soon."

Faith, Willow and Xander all raised their heads in surprise.

"Thanks, Buffy. I really appreciate it."

"Hey, we owe you."

She hung up and looked at the group. "Riley's cousin's a Slayer."

"Priority," said Faith.

"Exactly," Buffy agreed. "Xander, can you go change our tickets?"

"On it," he said, collecting everybody's ticket and heading off.

"Will, call Giles?"

She was already dialing her cell phone.

"Faith," Buffy said, looking expectantly at her sister slayer.

"We're on the baggage handlers?"

"We are."

"Trying to get our bags back even though they should technically be unreachable?"

"Exactly."

Faith sighed, shook her head and pulled her tank top down in front to show a little more cleavage, then loosened her belt so her jeans rode a little lower on her hips. "Man, I hope we don't get arrested again."

Xander returned for a moment. "Hey, Buffy, LAX, right? Where are we going?"

She looked down at her pad of paper. "Yeah, LAX. Somewhere called Neptune?"

----------

The End


End file.
